


Don't It Make You Feel So Fine

by tmn1966



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pre-Series, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-16
Updated: 2013-09-16
Packaged: 2017-12-26 18:49:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/969058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tmn1966/pseuds/tmn1966
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a lazy Sunday morning in a house they're squatting in, waiting for their dad to return from a hunt. (Sam is 16 and Dean is 20)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't It Make You Feel So Fine

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first (and maybe only) attempt at writing wincest. I hope I captured them halfway decently.
> 
> The title comes from the song 'Do You Wanna Touch Me' by Joan Jett.

The house was old and creepy by most standards, but it was supernatural free, so Dean kind of liked it. It had a history if you bothered to look – from the chipped china that had been left behind in the kitchen cabinets to the peeling wallpaper that revealed another layer, a different gaudy pattern beneath it. He wondered sometimes if he started picking at it just how many layers he’d find. All and all, Dean was pretty happy to hole up there for the few weeks it would take their dad to finish his current hunt and come back to collect them.

It was a Sunday morning, the one day he was allowed to sleep in and he had taken full advantage of it. He didn’t have to jump out of bed, get Sam's ass to school and get his own to the 7-Eleven for his shift. He squinted to get a look at his watch. Nine a.m., not too bad.

He scrubbed a hand over his face and looked around. Sam’s bed was empty, the sheets all tangled and rumpled. They really didn't need to share a room, and if they weren't so wrapped up in each other's lives he was sure that Sam would be bitching for his own room. But neither of them asked and their dad either never thought to try to get them into separate rooms or was still living under the mantra that Sammy needed constant watch. Dean didn't disagree. It was his job to do that and it was easier to accomplish if his younger brother was underfoot constantly. Dean wasn't complaining about that either.

Standing up and stretching, he couldn't help but give his brother's bed a cursory touch. No warmth could be detected, which meant Sam had been up for a while. The kid had probably already gone out to get the paper. For all of Sam’s smarts when it came to school and shit, his little brother still hit the Sunday Funnies first before looking at anything else. Smirking at the thought of Sam with his nose buried in the paper, ink staining his fingers and giggling at some stupid shit Snoopy or Garfield did, he slipped on some sweats and socks – the floor was always fucking cold in the morning. He padded out of the bedroom in search of Sam.

“So predictable,” Dean muttered as he found him lying on his stomach on the living room floor, his feet kicked up behind him, the colorful pages of the Funnies spread out in front of him.

“Shut up,” Sam said absently. “Like I don’t know every move you’re gonna make before you do it.”

“You do not,” Dean grumped, even though it was probably true. Mostly anyway. “Did you get breakfast while you were out?”

“Yeah, I got your _pie_ ,” Sam said, looking over his shoulder to give him the requisite bitchface. “Which, gross, that’s not a very healthy breakfast.”

“What about our lives is healthy,” Dean murmured as he wondered into the kitchen to see a slice of cherry pie and a glass of milk sitting on the table, ready and waiting for him. He touched the tumbler, impressed to find that it was ice cold. He couldn't help but be a little smug at the thought of Sam hearing him stirring and jumping up to get his _breakfast_ ready.

“Hey, Dean?” Sam called from the living room.

“What?” He plopped down in the chair and picked up the fork, ready to dig into the slice of pie that was already making his mouth water.

“Wanna go out and see a movie today?”

Dean mentally went through the money he had left over from his last pay as he got his first taste of the sweet and tart cherries fill his mouth. There probably were enough funds for a matinee and some popcorn, but he wasn't a big brother for nothing. "We gotta hit the Laundromat today. No clean clothes left, dude."

"Aww, Dean," Sam whined just like Dean knew he would, and came pouting into the kitchen, all slouched shoulders and droopy mouth. "C'mon, can't we see a movie first? I promise I won't ask for nothing else all week."

"All week, huh?" Dean asked thoughtfully as if he had to seriously consider it.

"Please, Dean." Sam slipped into the chair opposite Dean's and gave him a shy little smile. "Give you anything you want."

Oh well, this was turning out better than he’d thought. "Like?"

"I dunno. Whatever." Sam was still in that awkward teenager phase and although he could be damn stubborn at times, when it came to _other_ things, he was quite endearingly cute stuttering about and not sure how to put into words what he wanted.

"Huh. Well, I don't know either, Sam. _Whatever_ seems to encompass a lot. Gotta give me some specifics to go on. See if it's worth giving in to you."

"Dean," Sam huffed. "You hardly ever give in to me."

Now that right there was a damn lie and Sam knew it. But again, Dean understood, barely being out of his teens himself. "You sure about that one, Sammy?" he said, low and smooth. "Seems to me I let you kiss me a few weeks back."

Sam ducked his head but not enough that Dean didn't get a nice look at the blush that stained his brother's cheeks.

"You're a jerk, you know that," Sam said, but there was no heat to it and his mouth was starting to curl up into a smile. Yeah, Dean was sure that Sam was pretty proud of that moment where Dean had let Sam explore his mouth and run his hands all over his big brother. They'd done more stuff since then, but Dean refused to go too far. Sam's hormones were doing most of the talking for him and Dean wasn’t about to take advantage of that.

"Why don't you come over here and _show_ me what you'd do then."

Sam gave him a hot little look through his bangs and Dean was unsure if his brother realized the power of that look. Most likely he did once he straddled Dean and settled himself on his lap and could feel that Dan’s cock was already hardened up. Sam leaned his forehead on Dean's shoulder and said quietly, "Wanna get you off."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Sam asserted, kissing the juncture of skin between Dean's neck and shoulder, sucking lightly and then actually licking him. "No one tastes like you, Dean."

"You been tasting a lot of people, Sammy?" Dean tried to tamp down his jealousy - he wanted Sam to have experiences, he just didn't necessarily want to know about them.

"No," Sam said with a small snort. "I mean, I kissed a coupla girls, but you know, not like this."

And okay, girls were safe. Dean had no problem teasing his little brother about his sexual prowess when it came to girls.

"You get any other action besides kissin'? Second base?"

Sam buried his head in Dean's neck, his breath hot on Dean's skin as he said, "I felt up Missy Tenor a few months ago."

"How was it? Didja like it?"

Sam was rutting against him a little and Dean's arms wrapped loosely around his brother's waist. "Yeah, I guess," Sam said, finally lifting his head. "But I really like this, too."

"Pretty little Missy didn't let you do this, huh?"

"Never did it with anyone else but you." Sam started to writhe against him in earnest now.

"You keep that up and you're gonna come in your pants and we really will have to go do laundry first."

"Don't care."

“You’ll care when we’re sittin’ at the overly warm Laundromat watchin’ our clothes spin around instead of in a comfy movie theater eating popcorn and suckin’ down some sodas.”

“Wanna suck _you_ ,” Sam whispered into his ear. “Can I?”

Dean closed his eyes and let his head fall back just a little. “Sammy,” he said on a sigh.

“C’mon, Dean, please. Been wanting to for so long. Need to taste you like that.”

And Dean should’ve figured Sam wouldn’t be happy with rubbing off on each other and a few hand jobs now that he’d had a taste of it, so to speak. Sam’s hand slipped down between them, cupped Dean easily through his sweats. A groan managed to find its way out before Dean could stop it.

“Please.” Sam was a little breathless, his hips circling, grinding against Dean.

“Sound so pretty beggin’.” He hadn’t meant to say it, but it was true nonetheless. Sam could be relentless when he wanted something, but Dean had never heard him sound like this.

“Been dreaming of it, tasting your cock, feeling you on my tongue. Thinking of your hands on my head, holding me while you fuck my mouth.”

“Jesus, Sammy!”

His brother leaned back, his eyes dark and full of lust, and Dean could feel him shaking a little. It might have been a mixture of want and fear, a heady combination.

“Let me,” Sam pleaded. “I really want to, Dean, I promise. Been thinkin’ ‘bout it for over a year.”

Dean drew in a sharp breath. He shouldn’t have been surprised, but still, knowing that his brother had been thinking of blowing him for so long was hotter than hell.

“Sam,” he groaned as his brother slipped off his lap, slid slowly to his knees, his hands pushing against the inside of Dean’s thighs. Dean let his legs fall open and Sam moved in closer. Dean’s arms were hanging useless at his side when Sam started trying to work his sweats down. 

“Lift up,” Sam ordered softly and Dean instantly obeyed, like a damn Pavlovian response or some shit. His brother slid his pants and boxers down his thighs, past his knees but left his pooled at his feet as he moved in quickly to catch a drop of pre-come off Dean’s dick, swiping his tongue across the head.

“Fuck,” Dean breathed, his hand finding its way into Sam’s hair without permission. He hadn’t intended to touch Sam, wanted Sam to feel that he could stop any time he wanted.

“Yeah, Dean,” Sam moaned. “It’s what I want,” he said before fitting his mouth around Dean. He was cautious at first, tentative, and still it felt amazing. Dean had his share of blow jobs and really there was no such thing as a bad one, unless someone bit your dick off or something. But Sammy would never do that and this already felt way different than any other blow job.

Sam was humming around Dean’s dick and it felt fan-fucking-tastic. And Sam’s hair threaded through his fingers? It was the icing on the cake. “Jesus, Sammy, your mouth.”

Sam looked up at him, and didn’t that make a pretty picture, his mouth stuffed full of Dean’s cock. Sam’s one hand circled the base of Dean’s cock while the other cupped his balls, his fingers lightly stroking his perineum. His little brother had been doing some research it seemed. Dean would’ve laughed, but seriously he was far more thankful than normal that his brother was such a nerd.

Sam was pretty sloppy about it, but certainly made up for it in enthusiasm and the slurpy, pornographic noises he was making. Dean’s orgasm was building before he could stop it, and he really didn’t want to anyway. He just wanted to enjoy this moment, this time when it really was just him and Sammy. As far as he was concerned they were the only two people in the world.

He arched his back slightly, his fingers curling tighter into Sam’s hair. “Gonna come, Sam.”

He wasn’t surprised when his brother didn’t pull off, just kept sucking, moaning even more when Dean started to spurt into his mouth. Jesus, the kid loved it, no doubt about it. Sam stayed with him, rode out his orgasm with him, his tongue sliding against the underside of Dean’s dick. Sam finally pulled off, but not fully, not before taking a few last licks.

Dean let his body go limp, enjoyed the post-orgasmic bliss. “Gimme a minute and I’ll return the favor,” he panted.

“Um.” Sam was back to keeping his head down, not looking at him. Dammit, he knew he shouldn’t have let it go this far. But then Sam looked up at him with a sheepish look. “You don’t have to. I kinda lost it when you did it.”

“Oh fuck, I missed that?” _Really_ not what he’d wanted to say, but fuck all that was hot, Sammy coming untouched.

His brother grinned, showing off his killer dimples. “Well, we can do it again later, can’t we?”

He never could deny Sam much of anything. “Yeah, we can,” he said softly, leaning in for a quick kiss. “Now go change while I finish my breakfast.”

“Pie really isn’t a good breakfast,” Sam complained as he stood.

“Bitch, bitch, bitch. Man’s gotta have some pleasures in life,” he said as he pulled his pants back into place.

“You’re the poster boy for hedonism, Dean,” Sam scoffed as he made his way into the bedroom.

Dean smiled around a mouthful of pie as he looked up at the fine little cracks running like veins in the ceiling. Yeah. He really did like this house.


End file.
